Make Me Nigh Unto Pantyhose

I took a bath a few days ago, and while I was soaking in my lavender epsom salts I got to thinking.
I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am: many-a-great idea has been thought up in the bathrooms of America. I once knew a few boys in college who kept a voice recorder near their toilet so as to record their thinking-time epiphanies. I never heard the tapes… nor did I ever want to, but that’s beside the point.

The point is… pantyhose.

I don’t even know what got me thinking about them. I hardly wear them. I THINK I own a pair. They might be shoved in the backest most part of my undies drawer. Nevertheless, I realized that the quality of my life would improve radically if I were to be more like pantyhose.
Now, I’ll say to you what I said to my roommates in college when I told them that the LDS church was like an unborn fetus.
“Hear me out.”

They did, and now they believe. Okay MOSTLY they believe I’m a nut job, but that’s okay. It’s not like I could hide it forever anyway.

Pantyhose are subtle.
They have a way of being in the room, improving it, but never making a scene.

Pantyhose are classy.
Pantyhose are timeless… though they may fall in and out of fashion with the youth, they’re aging effortlessly. Shall I go so far as to say, “They’re aging seamlessly?”

Pantyhose improve.
They have a remarkable ability to SEE the flaws of the person next to them, but they make every attempt to bring out the better instead.

Pantyhose adapt.
They’re delicate, to be sure. All it takes is a little snag for them to completely give up their station. What then? Well, if a little clear nail polish can’t mend them, they have the decency to admit their defeat, and they go on to serve in other ways.


Pantyhose are versatile.
They’re ready to suit a variety of needs. White? Black? Knee high? Queen size? Thigh high? Nude? You’ve come to the right product.

When they want to be, pantyhose are chic -almost daring.

Now, you still might think I’m crazy, but apparently pantyhose already are everything I hope to be, socially. Someday I’ll sit and write a funny poem about it, but today is not that day. Today is the day where I teach preschool and squeeze in a work out and shower. Today is the day where I am NOT chic or daring. Preschoolers don’t need chic and daring, you know.
They need versatility.
They need adaptability.

They’re good practice for me, you know. And then someday, when I’ve mastered the Arts of the Pantyhose and can enter a room only to improve it… I’ll reward myself with a little daring/chic -designer style.
For now?
Let’s make it a nude knee-high day. Ole!
(Hey, there’s my poem!)


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